


A Christmas Decision

by Caiti (Caitriona_3)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/M, Howling Commandos Cameos - Freeform, Pre-Relationship, Steggy Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28441323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitriona_3/pseuds/Caiti
Summary: Peggy Carter, pureblood Slytherin, makes a rather good choice if she does say so herself.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 21
Kudos: 44





	A Christmas Decision

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thequeenbeegeek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenbeegeek/gifts).



> Done for Steggy Secret Santa 2020!

Peggy Carter walked down the main street of Hogsmeade, doing her best to let the babbling words flow around her. Oh, she didn’t completely ignore them – only an idiot would give someone that kind of opening. But that didn’t mean she needed to give them her full attention. A small part of her mind kept track so she could chime in if necessary to cut off some new, inane plan. It also let her listen for any important intel her fellow Slytherins might let drop.

Not that she expected to hear any.

Most of the truly intelligent and connected students had returned home for the break, leaving her trapped with a bunch of empty-headed socialites. She should have taken Stark up on his invitation when her parents decided to dart off to Paris for the holiday. Peggy might have been stuck dealing with his ego, but at least she wouldn’t have been so bloody bored. Even one of his prank experiments might have been a welcome distraction. And she even had a list of targets for him . . . all of them currently filling the cold air with pointless words.

Sounds of scuffling came from the side street and Peggy turned towards the noise as her curiosity stirred. From the sounds of it, some of her fellow students appeared to be getting into a fight. Not truly her concern, but at this moment? Anything that might let her escape the monotony of her current company would be welcome.

“Oh, look,” Bowden scoffed, walking up beside her. “How very surprising.” She rolled her eyes as she leaned against the stone wall of the shop. “Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes . . . _again_.”

Sure enough, Peggy spotted the two best friends taking on an entire crew of Slytherin students. Her brow furrowed – they might brawl with the same enthusiasm as they showed in Quidditch, but usually they had to have a reason for a scrap. A soft sound drew her attention, and she tilted her head as she spotted a little first year . . . a Slytherin boy. Given the state of his robes and the bruise darkening on one cheek, she could guess what set off the fight.

Rogers **hated** bullies – and he’d protect anybody he thought smaller or weaker, regardless of House or any other divisive label.

Even outnumbered five to one.

Sighing, Peggy pulled out her wand and stepped to the edge of the fight. Rogers took a hit that knocked him back a step or two, but even as he geared to jump back in, he glanced over at her. She might have been tempted to smirk as his eyes went wide. Maybe. Instead, she simply arched an eyebrow and he nodded.

“Buck!” he called out, clearly picking up her intentions if not her exact plan. “Drop!”

Barnes didn’t look around, ask questions, or waste any time. He just dropped straight down as Rogers did the same. She took advantage of their opponents’ bewilderment to focus her attack. “Stupefy!”

Multiple students dropped at once and the few who remained found themselves dispatched rather quickly by Rogers and Barnes. The two Gryffindors came up from the ground swinging, taking down the last of their opponent. Barnes glanced around, shook his head, and then shot her a rakish grin. “Remind me not to piss you off, Carter.”

Now the smirk escaped, but she kept her tone cool. “If you need reminding, Barnes, you’re likely to already be in trouble.”

“She’s got you there,” Rogers snickered. He gathered his belongings from where they’d been scattered. “Thanks for the assist.”

“It would be helpful if you’d quit needing it.”

“Good luck?” This time the snort of amusement came from Barnes. “He’s been getting into these scrapes since he could walk.”

“You’re always right there with me!” Rogers protested.

“Yeah, because you’re always getting into a bigger fight than you can handle.” Barnes ignored his friend’s sputtering to walk over and check on the boy they’d rescued.

“Always the valiant knight,” Peggy noted, a wry smile curving her lips as she turned to Rogers. 

“Ten on one isn’t a fair fight.” Stubborn conviction lit his blue eyes. “We evened the odds.”

“Kind of.” Not that she disagreed, but she wished he would stop to think before throwing himself into some of these situations. It wasn’t like he didn’t have more friends willing to step in when he called. “I can’t always be rescuing you.”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, a crooked smile settling on his mouth. “You do pretty good.”

She could feel the heat beginning to build in her cheeks as she looked at him. He’d caught her attention as a scrawny fourteen-year-old, his spirit and drive enough to steal anyone’s admiration. Then came their sixth year . . . She almost hadn’t recognized him on the Express – he’d sprouted up and filled out. 

Most of the girls – and some of the boys – sat up and took notice. Peggy’s little crush had deepened, but she’d continued to hold herself at a little distance, not certain of his opinion on **her**.

“Come on, Carter,” Bowden sighed, interrupting her thoughts. “We’ve got shopping to do if you’re finished . . . _slumming_ with these two.”

Lips twisting with distaste, Peggy gave the other girl a narrow-eyed look. “Go away.”

“I _beg_ your pardon?”

“I’m finished shopping,” she decided. “And I’ve had quite enough of your company for now.”

“Oh, well, really!” Turning on her heel, Bowden all but flounced away in a huff.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Rogers noted. 

“If she’s going to be insulting, I’d rather not waste my time.” Peggy rolled her shoulders to loosen the tightness that had built up. “Honestly, ‘slumming’? Even if I agreed – which I don’t – exactly how subtle is **that**?”

“Bucky and I were headed for the Three Broomsticks,” he chuckled. “Care for a butterbeer? My treat.”

“Sounds like an excellent idea.”

A few days later, Peggy woke in a silent room. She stretched, yawning and luxuriating in the feel of having the place all to herself for Christmas Day. None of her roommates had remained, so she could be quite alone until she felt ready to deal with people. Lunch sounded like an excellent time. Thus she took care of her morning routine in a slow easy manner before turning to her presents. Money from her uncle, sweets from her grandparents, and something ridiculously expensive and utterly impractical from her parents. 

_At least they make excellent bribes and re-gifts._

She found an unexpected surprise in the pile of gifts – a small present wrapped in unadorned paper with a simple bow. Eyebrows rising, she unwrapped it to find a folded note on top of a plain box. Despite the temptation to see what lay within the box, she turned to the note first.

_Carter – Spotted this in Hogsmeade. Given a couple of things Stark’s mentioned, I thought it might be helpful. Rogers_

What in Merlin’s name could Rogers have given her? 

Placing the note to the side, she picked up the box and pulled off the lid. “A pocket watch?” she murmured, fingers already moving to open it. Again her eyebrows climbed as she took note of the unusual face. A blue light seemed to shimmer over the glass before it shot a beam towards the figurine her parents sent her from Paris.

“What’s this then?”

Peggy put the watch down and picked up the crystal lotus flower. Examining it from every angle, she couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Lips pursed, she put it back on her bed and stared at it for a long moment. Suspicion began to glimmer in her mind, so she leaned over to grab her wand from its place on her bedside table. One quick spell later and it glowed with proof of a – currently – quiescent eavesdropping spell.

“Oh, I think not!”

Another spell rendered it inert. 

“How dare they?” 

Dropping the now innocent sculpture to the bed, she pushed herself to her feet and began pacing the room. Sometimes she wondered how she could possibly be related to those . . . those . . . **purebloods**! A wordless growl of anger rolled out of her and she had to repress the desire to toss the thing at a wall. She could guess what Stark had mentioned – her desire to get away from her family and make her own way in the world. Peggy Carter wanted to blaze her own trail, something of her own and not something anyone could claim she got by being somebody’s daughter.

When she stopped by the bed, she picked up the watch and looked back down at the face. It looked like an ordinary watch now, nothing more than a simple antique. Pressing the button on the side, the numbers and hands shimmered and vanished. Words floated across the surface.

“If from prying eyes you would hide, watch for when my face glows blue,” she read. “But a rosy shade will gleam bright when liars speak words untrue. Then again, a pretty green means someone wants to speak with you.”

A lovely gift, it’s usefulness hidden in plain sight . . . 

Peggy’s crush swirled in her heart, digging in deeper roots.

“Now what do I **do** about it?” she muttered to herself, falling back onto bed. Her mind tumbled over itself as she tried to decide what she wanted to do about her attraction to Steve Rogers. When her thoughts began to repeat themselves, she hauled herself to her feet. “Forget waiting for lunch,” she decided. “I’m going to go have breakfast and think about it later.”

That was the plan . . . until she spotted him sitting with his friends.

Walking into the Great Hall, Peggy cast a strict, almost stern look around the room. Most of the students remained segregated by House despite the reduced numbers present for the holiday. Understandable, she supposed, given House rivalries, though she did notice that families and friends congregated together despite differing Houses. She spared the briefest of glances for the Slytherin table before turning on her heel and striding over to the opposite side. 

Silence began to spread, and she could feel all eyes focusing on her.

_Ignore them,_ she ordered herself. _You owe them no explanation or attention._

Her attention remained focused on her goal – the Gryffindor tables. Even as she turned to make her way up the hall, Peggy watched as Barnes and the rest of their crew began shuffling, rearranging their placements so there would be an open space beside Rogers for her. “Gentlemen,” she nodded, sliding into place.

“Slumming it, Carter?” Barnes teased, a hint of flirting in his smirk.

“It’s bound to be more interesting than the airheads over there,” Gabriel Jones pointed out before she could reply. 

“Unless you’d like to know who is dating whom and whether or not they plan to attend the upcoming New Year’s Ball at such-and-such noble’s house,” James Falsworth put in, his accent shifting into a much posher sounding one. It gave away his own pureblood upbringing. Quite a few people in her House had trouble figuring out how to handle him. His family came from as high as any of theirs, but instead of being in Slytherin, the Sorting Hat chose to place him in Hufflepuff along with Jones. 

“More or less,” Peggy agreed, rolling her eyes. “And none of them have any chance of getting an invitation to the best of them.”

“Stark’s?” Rogers chuckled.

“Exactly.” She began to fill her plate from the nearby platters. “I’m still undecided.”

“We’re going,” Timothy Dugan, called Dum Dum by his mates, put in. “Pretty sure Stark sent the invites as a joke, but we might as well check out the party, right?” The Gryffindor student snagged a plate of sausages from another group and offered it to her.

“It’s likely to be an extravaganza.”

“At least it will give us a night away from the castle,” Jim Morita put in.

His fellow Ravenclaw, Jacques Dernier, nodded. “And Stark’s always amusing.”

“That’s one word for it,” Barnes chuckled. He turned back to Peggy, his eyes flickering to Rogers before smiling at her. “You should join us.”

“For the entertainment?”

He shrugged, his smirk deepening. “I can promise you won’t be bored.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

Conversation flowed around the table with no awkward pauses, pretty lies, or disguised verbal gameplay like she might have faced at her own House table. Rowdier than her own circle, perhaps, but they accepted her and expected her to keep up. Insults came fast and loud instead of hidden behind compliments along with honest, open teasing that didn’t include any attacks designed to hurt. 

For a moment she felt ashamed of her House, but then reminded herself – not **all** Slytherins behaved so badly. Enough of them followed her example, as well as Stark’s. They just also got stuck with the ambitious sorts who didn’t mind climbing over bodies to achieve their ends.

Waiting until most of the group got involved in a game of Wizard’s Chess, Peggy turned a curious look on Rogers. “Thank you for my gift,” she murmured, hoping to keep the conversation private.

“Glad you liked it.”

“It will be helpful.” Sipping at her pumpkin juice, she kept her eyes on him. “Though I think Stark may talk too much.”

“You’re not the only one who wants to . . . make their own mark.”

“True.” Pursing her lips, she watched him for a long moment as she considered society, the rules and regulations surrounding pureblood families. With a quiet nod to herself, she threw the expectations of her upbringing to the wind and gave him a winsome smile. “Would you care to accompany me to the Stark Ball?”

Fork stopping halfway to his mouth, Rogers . . . no, **Steve** blinked at her. “Ah . . . well, I . . .” He blinked again as he stammered. Then he jerked, doing his best to repress a grunt as he dropped his fork. “Ouch,” he muttered, shifting in his seat.

One of her eyebrows flicked up as he shot a dirty across the table at his best friend. Following his gaze, she spotted the mischief hovering at the corner of the other man’s mouth even though he kept his eyes strictly on the game between Dugan and Morita. If she had to guess, she would wager a Galleon on him having kicked his friend under the table. 

Something to ask later.

For now, Peggy turned her focus back on Steve. “Well?” she prompted.

“Umm . . . sounds great,” Steve finally managed, wondering disbelief still glimmering in his blue eyes. “If you’re sure . . .”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

“Then, yeah, absolutely.”

“It’s a date.”


End file.
